


Have I kept you waiting long?

by twistedmiracle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bondage, Draco never takes off his underwear, Gruff as hell Snape, Happy Ending, Icky revelations about Lucius, M/M, Mentor Snape, Mutual Masturbation, Screwed up Draco, They still have sex, patient harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-21 10:02:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30020073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twistedmiracle/pseuds/twistedmiracle
Summary: Yanked off my old Skyehawke account and slightly fixed up because wow, I've come a good long ways since 2007?!Draco needs some advice from someone he can trust. He doesn't like everything he hears.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	Have I kept you waiting long?

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: No Beltane at all! Heh!  
> Happy Beltane, sassy_cissa!  
> You asked for:  
> "IN MY FIC: Harry/Draco only please and definitely with a rating of NC-17. ... It's ok to include Severus in the fic, but only as a father figure to Draco. I prefer post-war and post-Hogwarts.... It can be an established relationship or just starting out. A tiny bit of angst is ok, but it needs to have a happy ending. I love a well developed mpreg story.  
> SQUICKS: Veela, Vampire or other creatures, bloodplay, scat, non-con, rape, watersports, D/s, BDSM, chan...the usuals."  
> I do hope you like what I came up with, especially since I really skirted one of your lines. No mpreg this time, but I think I managed to include everything else you mentioned wanting.

Severus had first appeared pleased, even honored when Draco (so uncharacteristically nervous in his mentor's home), went to him, asking for an unprecedented kind of personal advice.

Fleetingly, Draco had even thought Severus seemed 'moved,' as hard as that was to believe.

Draco had attempted to express his gratitude for Severus' tender feelings, but Severus scoffed at the very idea. Nonetheless, Draco could clearly see that it was true. After all, no one else understood Severus - his life and sacrifices - the way Draco did. Slytherins, spies, marked, misunderstood. They had the worst things in common, and the best.

Actually, Draco had half-expected for years to choose to make a pass at Severus. But instead, he'd chosen this.

*************

Draco - not Malfoy, never Malfoy anymore when he could help it - had appeared at Severus' door unannounced that splendid April afternoon, bearing an offering of fine bourbon and rich chocolate.

"What blow are you trying to soften, boy?" Severus had demanded so gruffly that he'd almost sounded angry. After everything they had been through together, Draco supposed he shouldn't behave so formally with Severus about anything. Not even this. Certainly, Draco knew, Severus would not appreciate any insinuation that he was too poor to afford his vices. The "hero" money he received from the Ministry might be less than what anyone else - save Draco, of course - received monthly, but Draco knew it nonetheless covered all of Severus' expenses. Severus had also assured him that the potions he sold through owl delivery earned him a decent sum every month in addition.

But Draco had refused to be cowed any further than he apparently already was. He entered the house, assuming he'd been invited in when Severus moved aside and scowled at the gifts, then took them and dumped them unceremoniously on a sideboard.

Draco had considered stalling, making small talk, but decided he needed to get this over with. So he'd simply turned to Severus and began to speak.

"I need your help. I need personal advice. From someone I can trust."

Suddenly, everything had changed. Severus apparently knew what it meant for Draco to admit that. Even to Severus himself. Even behind a closed door in a private flat. Draco was ushered into the living room and pressed into a chair. A glass of whiskey was pushed into his hand. Severus fluttered about him like a grandmother, finally settling on the ottoman to listen to anything Draco might have to say.

It was unnerving.

It had only got odder when Severus muttered, "No one else could wring such a reaction from my twisted old heart." Perhaps he was embarrassed to feel that way. Perhaps he was only embarrassed to say it. Whatever the cause, clearly Draco was still very dear to his old Head-of-House.

Draco had swallowed a sip of his whiskey, then another. He looked at Severus and looked away, then he looked back again. He put his glass down on the table near his chair and put his elbows on his knees. Then he sat up and looked Severus in the eye again. He picked his whiskey back up and played with the glass, hardly seeing it at all.

Finally, he had found a way to speak the words.

"I have recently discovered that I need something, and I don't know if I should. Well, really, I know I should not. Were my father still alive, he would disinherit me for even considering this. And actually..." Draco had felt his cheeks prickle with heat as he failed to speak confidently. "...It's not a thing, it's a person."

Severus' tone was unreadable - perhaps because Draco was so wrapped up in his own personal discomfort. "Have you finally found a nice girl then?"

Draco snorts now to remember his reaction - and Severus' reaction to that.

Draco had blanched. He felt it happen. He knew well that when a man as pale as he reacts that way, he appears to have become suddenly ill. Most alarming. Apparently, Severus had never seen Draco blanch, and he'd immediately grabbed the whiskey glass from Draco's hand and conjured a cold, wet flannel for Draco's forehead.

Once Draco had successfully fought off the flannel, he could finally explain his dilemma. He'd fallen in love with the most unlikely man in the world. And immediately Severus knew who it was.

"This should not be a surprise," Severus had mused. Then he stood up and began to move around the room. "I should really have seen this coming. And I don't begrudge you this, Draco, certainly not. He's not the oddest choice at all," Severus had snarked before Draco could respond. Draco wondered if Severus had guessed correctly. He had.

"Harry Potter is exactly the right choice for you. For a whole annoying multitude of reasons." Severus had suddenly twisted where he stood and gave Draco a careful evaluation. "Unless he doesn't return your feelings. In which case I shall disembowel him." Draco shook his head, trying not to look miserable.

As Severus had warmed to his subject, he easily dismissed all of Draco's concerns and reservations, while at the same time, chilling him deeply.

"I see the thoughts blooming poisonously in your mind. With knowledge of your soul and heart only, Draco, _not_ Legilimency. You think you should be with a woman, a moneyed pure-blood, a perfect submissive little wife who would have pleased your father and borne you a houseful of brats."

Draco could only give a shaky nod and continue to listen and watch as Severus gestured and paced.

"Well, let me be the one to tell you that _Lucius_ -" Severus had fairly hissed the name, "-was a bastard. May the gods eat his soul. Don't you know why you have no siblings?"

Draco had certainly wondered.

"Your father was the biggest ponce who ever lived. For years he kissed your beautiful mother good night on the cheek and then left the Manor to take it up the arse in shame and in secret like a good little whore. Mostly from Voldemort himself, actually, until your would-be lover relieved the monster of his body that long-ago Halloween night. I don't know where Lucius found men while you were a little boy, but I do know that he propositioned me repeatedly after Voldemort regained his body and we returned to active service as Death Eaters. The Voldemort that returned was, apparently, a completely non-sexual being. I suppose that comes from being so far away from human."

Draco had sat in perfect, shocked horror. Severus seemed unaware of Draco's emotions and barreled onwards.

"At any rate, my point is that your father had no idea how to live or make decisions of the heart. He obediently did everything your grandfather told him to do, and look where it got him. Miserably married to a woman he did not love who did not love him, and so ashamed of what he thought it all meant that it softened him up for Riddle.

"Really, Draco, didn't it ever occur to you to think it odd that a man like your father was willing to take orders from anyone other than his own father? Lucius Malfoy hid his heart so deeply within himself that he became a slave to his cock."

Draco had shuddered at the words. Severus ignored him, or didn't see.

"Riddle, of course, wanted only your father's money, influence, power and loyalty. Riddle was the most selfish creature ever born. He had no interest in your father's love, and in the bedroom he never gave a thing, only took. But by then your stupid, shame-filled father was so desperate for anything that he took what Voldemort gave him and then did his dirty bidding."

Severus turned from the window and finally looked at Draco as he'd addressed him.

"Don't let this happen to you, Draco. Love who you love, openly, happily. Don't let shame warp your heart and damage your soul. If it is Harry Potter you love, and he loves you in return, then who better to turn the world's opinion around? They won't deny him anything, not even you."

Draco could hardly move, but he could feel the words penetrate all the way through to his ice-cold soul.

"So, go back to your annoying little Gryffindor, with my blessing. Just don't expect me to admit that in front of him. He's still an obnoxious prat. A spoiled twerp like you is perfect for him."

With that, Severus had turned away from Draco. He returned to the window and seemed to look down on the street below. He silently waved his wand toward the front door and appeared to expect Draco to simply walk out without another word.

Overcome with broken thoughts and tangled emotions, Draco had struggled out of his chair, then stood in the middle of the room and tried to think of something intelligent to say. Finally, he walked over to the window where Severus stood silently. He put a hand on Severus' shoulder and said, very quietly, "Thank you, Sir."

Severus gave him the slightest of nods in return.

Only then had Draco walked through the door and left the flat. He Apparated to his own flat even before he reached the street. Pausing for nothing, he'd gone to his desk and begun to write a letter. By the time he'd finally felt ready to owl it, however, three hours had passed, and his room was cluttered with small shreds of ripped parchment.

*************

Harry,

I hope this letter finds you well and waiting. Call me selfish. I know  
it already. I could not accept you easily. I made you wait. If it is wrong  
of me to hope that you still wait, then, well, I am wrong.

I spoke to someone today who told me many things I had not known  
before. Much of what he said was deeply disturbing. But the important  
message he had for me was one I am finally ready to accept. I hope I  
have not accepted it too late for us.

The details of what he said are not important and not for owl post, but  
the need I have to see you is far too strong to ignore for even another  
moment. Please come to dinner tonight. I enclose a Portkey that will  
activate any time after seven this evening.

If you choose to bring along a toothbrush and change of clothing, I  
could only welcome you even more willingly.

Draco

*************

Draco,  
I accept your dinner invitation. I'll be there around seven. Punctuality isn't my strong suit.  
Harry

*************

Draco paced his parlour. He'd debated the afternoon away. Cook, or takeaway? Casual or formal dress? Candles and wine, or lights up and cheery? Muggle radio or wizarding wireless? Kitchen or dining room? Finally he'd chosen to fetch takeaway from an Asian restaurant around the corner, put it out as a fancy spread in the dining room, serve wine but leave off the candles, play a Muggle CD of mixed jazzy pop (chosen just for Harry), and wear extremely handsome but still not technically formal robes. The lights were up high, bright and cheery, but they could easily be dimmed with a wave of his wand, should that seem prudent.

He neatened the serviettes, combed his hair three times, switched from chopsticks to forks and then back again, changed the music once and his tie twice. Now, at nearly five minutes past seven, there was nothing left to do but wait and force himself to be calm. Harry had agreed to come. Therefore, he would come.

Draco's intention was to be sitting comfortably in the parlour with a book and sipping wine when Harry arrived. As the minutes ticked by, however, his feigned self-possession crumbled, and he second-guessed every decision he'd made since he left Severus' home. The music, the food, the robes, the wording of the note he had finally owled to Harry, the choice to attempt this reconciliation in the first place, the colour of the tablecloth. Nothing was too silly or too sacred, no water too far under the bridge to be worried at and picked over in his mind. He sat, he stood, he paced, he held onto the window casement, he picked up book after book trying to find one that would distract him.

When Harry finally Portkeyed in, looking curiously at the Scottish 1991 Muggle coin that Draco had found and charmed into a Portkey, any chance Draco may once have had to look calm and cool was long before shot to hell.

Harry, however, looked completely calm. As he put his wet hat down on the table he asked, "Have I kept you waiting long?"

Draco almost snapped at Harry for making him wait nearly half an hour, but then he remembered Harry's comment about punctuality and, even more importantly, that he'd kept Harry waiting for more than two months. He held his tongue and ignored Harry's question. Instead, Draco walked over to help Harry out of his wet cloak and put away Harry's wet umbrella. "You've been out in the rain?"

"Yes, I needed… to clear my head."

Draco swallowed several sentences about how Harry had obviously been dressed and ready to grasp the Portkey for a long time before he actually had. Harry was here. That was what mattered.

"Are you hungry? I bought some Thai food. And a nice red."

Harry stood closer than necessary as he hung his wet hat next to his wet cloak. "You always were the man for wines."

Draco was pleased by the compliment, but it also brought back memories of tipsy nights when he'd struggled not to take Harry to his bed and give in to his overwhelming, shameful desires. So he simply said "Thank you," and stepped away from Harry so he could maintain his pretense of calm.

"I picked up several dishes, would you like a bit of everything? There's soup, a beef dish, one with noodles and chicken and, of course, pad thai."

"That all sounds delicious, Draco. Shall we start with some soup? And you can tell me what you've been up for the past two months."

The men sat at Draco's dining room table, and Draco served Harry some of the clear vegetable soup.

Harry took a sip and smiled. Then he tucked in. "This is very good. This is tofu?"

Draco leaned over to see what Harry had on his spoon. Harry put a hand on Draco's wrist, over the cloth but almost touching skin. Draco froze, then took a deep breath and looked again at the spoon, this time actually seeing what it held. "Yes, that's a square of fried tofu. I've tried to copy this soup, but I have no idea what their secret is. When I cook tofu it crumbles into flakes or irregular little chunks, no matter what I do."

Harry's eyes were mirthful. "So that's what you've been doing for two months? Failing to properly cook tofu?" Then Harry stretched his legs under the table and tangled his shoes with Draco's.

Draco wasn't quite sure what Harry was playing at, but he decided he needed to be as honest as possible. Most of this mess was his own stupid fault, for letting the fears and prejudices of a dead man - according to Severus a liar, fool and self-loathing, dead, gay man - convince him to push Harry away.

"Harry, for the past two months I have been trying to live my life without stepping blindly into traffic or accidentally Floo-ing myself off to Liberia. All I can think about is you, and us, and what could have been. What I hope I haven't lost all chances of having."

Harry pulled his feet back under his own chair and gave Draco a far more intent, serious look. "That's not… tell me more, Draco."

Draco put his soup spoon down and stood - with so much force that his chair almost fell over. He paced over to his fireplace and stood there, facing Harry and working on not clenching his fists at his sides.

"Harry, I hardly know where to start. You know that when you approached me that first time, I was nervous, taciturn. I have no idea why you returned, why you asked me out again and again, why you pursued me. I do know that I am almost unbearably grateful, however. You know I have never been with a man, with anyone at all. That I never let you go so far as to even undress me. But I don't think you know why."

Harry sat at Draco's table and pushed his soup bowl away. He took a breath and opened his mouth, but then he appeared to change his mind and gestured generously for Draco to continue.

Draco stood stiffly in front of his fireplace and tried to find the right words.

"My father taught me, by words, by deeds, by example, and in every way he could, that I was to obey him as completely as he obeyed grandfather, and that I was - above all - born to continue the Malfoy line, as he had done. I was to serve his Dark Lord; I was to get excellent grades at Hogwarts; I was to never allow a breath of scandal to touch me; but above all, I was to father a male heir upon a suitable pureblood wife. Nothing was more important."

Draco stared at the place setting in front of his guest and forced himself to speak.

"My father became a … I think the Muggle word is 'bogeyman.' He filled my nightmares. He was the man I admired and feared and emulated more than anyone in the world. Questioning him and his choices was the hardest thing I had ever done. And, for a long time, I was able to only question his devotion to V-Vol-demort."

Harry smiled solemnly at Draco, who allowed himself a moment of pride. It had taken him a few years to be able to say that word at all, and he knew it would take a few more to say it without a stutter.

Draco looked into Harry's eyes for a difficult moment. "When you began to pursue me, I was at first flattered, then I was disdainful, and then I was terrified." Draco looked away, unable to sustain the eye contact along with the words and hating himself for it.

"Because abandoning the Dark Lord was nothing compared to dating a man. I am the last Malfoy. Allowing the line to end is the most unforgivable thing I could possibly do. Even toying with a man is dangerous, because it opens the possibility that I could be… homosexual, and therefore unable to father children, unwilling to marry a witch. What if the scandal broke? What wealthy pureblood witch would have me? Whenever you touched me, Harry, I was filled with memories and an indoctrinated loathing that went so deep most of it had no words, only visceral response." Draco clenched his fists in anger - whether at himself or Lucius he did not wish to ascertain - then he forced himself to relax his hands.

Harry sat quietly, his emotions unreadable, but his countenance calm and his eyes open. He was, at least, still listening.

"The first night I tried to allow you to sleep here, I am sure you recall that I got ill and you left as I vomited repeatedly into my toilet while yelling at you to 'please just leave' in between bouts of getting sick. That was no virus, Harry. That was my father's ghost, coming back to haunt me."

Harry looked alarmed, and Draco waved at him dejectedly. "No Harry, not literally. He's truly dead and gone. There is no ghost, as far as I am aware." Then he muttered quietly enough that Harry might not have heard, "Because surely if Lucius were to haunt anyone, it would be me."

Draco ran his fingers through his hair and then marveled at his own lack of control. He had not allowed Harry to see him so disheveled since the night he'd spent vomiting up his fears.

"I thought I would be able to get over you, Harry," Draco said, staring at the floor. "I sent you away and waited to get over you. You will note, however, that I asked you to wait for me instead of telling you to leave me alone and never come back. You will also note that, well... here we are."

Draco had to take a deep breath before he could continue. He wasn't sure how Harry would feel about this part. "What changed between then and now is that I finally broke and went to Severus for advice. I thought if anyone could help me kill my unnatural fascination with you, it would be him. He hates you, after all."

To this, Harry simply nodded. Good, he wasn't upset about Draco going to Severus.

"But Severus' reaction was a tremendous surprise to me. He's all for us getting together, Harry."

Draco gave a half-smile at Harry's look of undiluted surprise.

"It wasn't what I expected from him, either. But he told me things about my father, Harry… I don't think I can repeat everything he said. It disturbs me too deeply to think about it. I can't speak the words. But he told me that my father was… my father was himself… Lucius was…."

Harry stood and walked to Draco, who looked him in the eye and sighed.

"Go ahead, Draco. I'm listening." Harry stood close to him but did not touch, carelessly leaning his left shoulder against the mantel. Draco stared at Harry's shoulder as he forced out words he could hardly believe were true.

"My father was homosexual, Harry. Homosexual and filled with self-loathing. Like father like son, hmm?"

Harry looked surprised for a moment. Then he hid a reaction. Draco couldn't tell what it was.

Now that he'd finally managed to get the worst of it out, into the heavy air, Draco just wanted to turn away from Harry and put his head down. He wanted to cry. He wanted to fall asleep. He wanted to Apparate to Singapore. But he could not abandon this journey now. He had come much too far.

When Harry spoke, his voice was tentative and uncertain. "May I put my hand on your shoulder?"

Draco nearly snapped " _I offer you my virginity and you ask to put a hand on my shoulder_?" But instead he choked back a sniff and nodded. He was a little surprised, despite how difficult everything had already been, that he wasn't able to vocalize anything more.

Harry gently put his hand on Draco's shoulder and nowhere else. It was a small touch, yet it filled Draco's entire body with warmth, and he stiffened throughout in response. The touch both began an erection and made him uncomfortable, but he refused to ask Harry to let go. As comforting as the warmth was, it was also arousing. Yet despite his growing erection, Draco refused to give into his urge to ask Harry to leave.

Harry made sure Draco was looking him in the eye when he spoke. "Do you know why I pursued you so diligently?"

Draco shook his head, "No." He really couldn't imagine why Harry was here at all, why Harry hadn't abandoned this seemingly futile chase months ago, when Draco first proved so difficult.

Harry's warm hand stayed on Draco's shoulder. "I realized during the war that I wanted you, but it was a bad time. You startled like a bird every time I came inside your personal space, and I was far too busy with being a soldier to dedicate enough time to you.

"Then the war was over and there was still so much work to do, and I almost never saw you. At first I was distracted, but then I started to miss you. Your wit, your edge, your sharp intelligence, your bravery, the way you never coddle my friends but had still learned - despite everything - to treat them with a respect that I could always see underneath your tease and fire.

"I missed that fire, Draco, I missed your spirit. After a month or two, I realized no man could compare to you, and I didn't want to pretend or make do, so I sought you out and tried to get inside your polite, aristocratic defenses. I could tell you were interested, and yet what a merry chase you led me on! You wanted me, yet you seemed to hate the very thought of wanting me. I didn't know why, but as long as you let me follow you around, I didn't much care.

"Yes, I've waited these past two months and yes, I teased you tonight when I arrived, and yes, I even made you wait for my arrival as well. But I've waited a lot longer than two months for you, Draco. There is no one else like you, and I believe I will wait as long as it takes."

Harry smiled and squeezed Draco's shoulder very slightly. Draco's cock jerked uncomfortably in response. _Merlin, everything this man did set him tingling._

"So, here's the situation, Draco. I'm not leaving. I am deeply horrified by what Lucius taught you and put you through. I am honored to be the man you would try to work through that sort of childhood _education_ for. I want a relationship with you. A romance. Something meaningful and real. I consider you my friend, a hero, and also a worthy partner.

"There are potential solutions to the problem of the ending of your line. I've been thinking about it myself, since I realized I wasn't going to be able to find it within myself to marry a woman. There's adoption, surrogacy-"

Draco knew he must have looked horrified at both suggestions because Harry stopped that train of thought and began another.

"And I can wait however long this will take, Draco. Let me kiss you on the cheek tonight and leave you in peace. I can take you out for a late morning picnic tomorrow and-"

"No." Draco was a bit shocked at how uncompromisingly he spoke the word, but his cock ached under his robes.

"No?" Harry actually seemed slightly confused. "Don't you think it would be best to go slow with physical intimacies?"

"No, Harry, I don't." Draco pushed himself to speak. He closed his eyes and shoved at the words. Harry thought he was brave. _Harry_ thought that. "I've waited long enough; and I can't stop now, or I might lose momentum. I'm so hard for you Harry, I ache with desire. So I want to push myself. I want to try to get past this barrier. Tonight."

Harry stood silently for a moment, his hand suddenly heavy on Draco's shoulder. "Then I have an idea," he finally said.

Draco nodded.

"Have you ever heard of bondage?" Harry actually blushed a little as he said it, and Draco was as relieved to see the blush as he was taken aback by the suggestion.

"Harry. I am shocked at you. There will be no… paddling or hitting or-"

"No! No, of course not, Draco. Nothing you don't want. I didn't say sadism and masochism, or domination for that matter. Not even discomfort! Just… restraints. I think that if you tied me up, or were restrained yourself - we should discuss it and see which makes more sense for you - it might help. Just this first time."

Draco suddenly needed to sit down, so he reached up to his shoulder and took Harry's hand in his own. Then he led them both the few steps back to the table where the food had all gone quite cold. He sat, still holding Harry's hand, and smoothed his robes over his thighs. "Please, explain."

"Basically, Draco, bondage is about pretending to relinquish control. The man in restraints wouldn't actually be giving away any real power, assuming we have trust, and I trust you. If you tie me up, it gives you the opportunity to do it all completely at your own pace. To know, with certainty, that I won't push you too hard or too fast.

"If you are restrained, it would mean that you could release yourself to me and know that you wouldn't be expected to touch me or pleasure me. You could simply relax and accept the pleasure and care I give you. "Does either of those options sound appealing to you, Draco?"

Draco stared blankly at Harry. "Let me make sure I am understanding you perfectly. You trust me."

Harry nodded his 'yes.'

"You would allow me to tie you up." It should have been a question, but Draco didn't quite inflect it as one.

Harry nodded again.

"You wouldn't need me to… I don't know, put my wand away first? Or make a binding magical oath not to do particular things? And you trust me not to hurt you, or sell photos of you like that, or betray you, or harm you in any way?"

Harry finally spoke. "Yes, Draco. I trust you like that. I would allow you to take my wand out of my hands, undress me, and tie me up, in magical ropes. I know I would not regret it."

Draco was still uncertain that Harry could really mean that. Had he given this any thought at all? Harry's impulsiveness was famous. "Despite who I am? Despite our history? Despite what I've done to you in the past?" Draco dropped his voice to almost a whisper. "Despite… despite my own childhood tuition?"

Harry put his other hand around the hand he was already holding. "Yes, Draco. I would."

Suddenly Draco couldn't find a way to raise his voice above a whisper. "How can you trust me like that?"

"I just do, Draco. I learned to trust you with my life when we were soldiers together. That hasn't changed."

Draco buried his face in his hands and sobbed. Just the once, but it had happened, and he couldn't pretend that it hadn't.

"I don't think you can know," he tried to sound calm, but he didn't think Harry was fooled, "how much this means to me."

"Show me," Harry said simply. And he stood up and extended his hand to Draco.

Draco stood and then he stared at Harry's outstretched hand. He was going to do this. He was going to tie Harry up. He was going to have a naked, beautiful man in his bedroom, tied to his bed. There was absolutely no denying this anymore. He was attracted to men. He was homosexual.

He took Harry's warm hand back into his own. Together, they went into Draco's bedroom.

*************

Harry had to conjure the ropes.

Harry had to help Draco restrain him.

Harry had to prove to him that they didn't chafe, that he was comfortable, that he was still hard.

Finally, Draco felt ready to accept the reality of a naked man in his bed and _do something about it_.

"I have no idea what to do, Harry."

"Of course you do, Draco. What you really mean, I would wager, is that you don't know how to immediately shift into the most spine-tingling shag I've ever had. Isn't that right?"

Draco was dismayed to be so transparent to Harry while still opaque to himself, but Harry soothed him. "I am not here because I expect some sort of professional experience, Draco. You excite me. For proof, see prick." Then he smirked gently. Indeed, Harry was clearly hard as stone and leaking pre-come in a thin, shining cord that stretched from the slit of his erection all the way down to the trail of black fur that pointed to his cock like an arrow for temptation.

"So I will repeat, Draco. I am not here because I expect a performance, an expert's act. I am not tied to your bed because otherwise I would leave. I did not sit in my flat waiting for your owl for two bloody months only to judge your touch and your mouth and your cock the moment I finally got to experience them.

"I am here to be with you. I can wait a long time for the mind blowing shag I know will happen between us - sooner or later. And I know, I am very sure, that eventually we will be incredible together. Because we have always been explosive, and because I want you more than I have ever wanted anyone in my entire life. Not to mention, you want me enough to push through generations worth of bullshit.

"We can't possibly be anything but amazing when we finally get it together, Draco. So take your time. Learn me. Learn yourself. If I start to get blue balls or something, you can feed me a Calming Draught, all right? But this is for you. This is a gift. Take it and… play with your new toy."

Draco felt his mouth water. He nodded at Harry and stripped off his robes. Underneath he wore the most old-fashioned type of wizarding undergarments. He felt momentarily shy about them, but then he looked into Harry's eyes and saw the frank, raw appreciation there. That was a look no one, especially not an open book like Harry, could possibly fake.

"What are those, pet?" Harry asked, a bit faintly.

"Magical underthings." Draco blushed. "They're designed to protect me from certain lower-lever spells. They were woven magically, from fibers of some magical plant or other, I can't remember much about it. Herbology was never my strong suit."

"They are. Insanely. Sexy."

Draco would have scoffed and assured anyone else that jokes weren't necessary, but Harry appeared close to drooling.

"Really? That's… unexpected, to say the least. After all, they're hardly... revealing. They cover me up so thoroughly, from elbows to neck to knees."

"They are tight, they shimmer, they compliment your skin tones and hair color perfectly, and they radiate protective magic. Your arse is so high and round in them, Draco, it could be under _Wingardium Leviosa_."

Draco couldn't help but laugh. "No," he snickered. This is the way my arse really looks. There's no _Wingardium_ in my shorts."

"I believe you, Draco. Now, are you going to stand all the way over there all evening?"

Draco hung his robes carefully in his wardrobe, making sure they were smooth, that they were fastened properly at the neck, that the shoulders weren't wrinkled. Then he turned, still wearing socks and underthings, and looked at his bed, where Harry lay back against the pillows. Harry, beautiful Harry, was completely nude and tied to Draco's bed by both wrists and both ankles. The ropes had just enough slack that Harry's whole body appeared to be relaxed and comfortable, except his cock, which throbbed a little with every beat of Harry's heart.

Draco sat at the foot of the bed and removed his socks. Then he fussed with them for a moment, pressing out the wrinkles with his fingers. He balled them up once, then undid it and redid it again, more to his satisfaction this time.

Harry bore it all in patient silence.

Draco finally stood and moved to stand next to the bed. Now he was less than two feet from Harry's shoulder. He reached out and touched Harry there, rather like Harry had touched him earlier, in front of Draco's fireplace. It made all the difference in the world that Harry now had no cloth over his skin.

Both men were breathing irregularly now.

"I love feeling your fingers on my skin," Harry said quietly.

"Then you should feel them there some more." Draco responded, and he sat facing Harry and the headboard. Draco was fascinated by Harry's chest. There was hair there, black as onyx. He was so different from Draco, so different from a woman. Draco watched his own fingers as he traced his fingertips gently over the skin of Harry's body. He started at the shoulder, traced over the collarbone, lingered at the base of Harry's neck.

Harry made a small noise, and Draco realized he found it distracting.

"Shhh…" he requested. "Can you let me just experience the touching first? Sounds later, all right?"

Harry nodded and Draco began to learn how far down Harry's neck his beard grew. He would bet that Harry had shaved or magically depilated shortly before their date, but here it was only a few hours later and Draco could already feel the poke of hair from the pores. Harry probably had five-o-clock shadow every day before lunch.

Harry's ears were gentle, sensual curves of remarkable softness.

Harry's hair was as thick and soft as Draco had dreamed it would be.

The back of Harry's neck responded to Draco's tentative stroking by sprouting goose bumps.

Harry's Adam's apple was thicker than Draco's but rounder, less pointy. _Everything about me is pointy_ , Draco thought sadly. Then he caught sight of the way Harry was clearly forcing himself to submit, to be quiet and outwardly calm; the way Harry's ignored erection looked so hard it probably hurt. _Perhaps Harry thinks pointy is attractive_ , Draco mused, and returned to his exploration.

Harry's collarbone was less prominent than Draco's, as Harry was more muscular and also shorter. But the contrast between the skin over the bone and the skin over the muscle was still apparent. Draco traced it repeatedly; eyes open, now closed, until he could tell the difference no matter how light his touch.

Harry's pectoral muscles were amazing. Round, firm, the skin over them both furry and soft.

Harry's nipples were brown and seemed to be sensitive to touch. Touching them made Harry flinch almost imperceptibly and choke back the sounds Draco had asked him to suppress for now.

Harry's shoulders and upper arms were strong, muscular, masculine and nearly hairless.

The skin over Harry's elbows was rough. Below them he had more black hair, neither sparse nor overwhelming. Harry's hands were rough and untended. Draco did not have to ask if Harry had ever had a manicure. He surely had not. But his nails were short and neat enough. He had no hangnails to accidentally hurt Draco with.

Harry's abs were not visible - at least when Harry was in this relaxed half-sitting position - but Draco could find them under the skin.

The irregular triangle of black hair that grew between Harry's navel and cock was so enticing that Draco barely touched it before getting up and starting over again at Harry's feet - which were thin and short and furry on top. Really, it was amazing how much soot-black hair grew with abandon all over this pale, short man in Draco's bed. _I like the contrasts between us_ , Draco decided as he looked Harry over, bottom to top.

Green eyes were tightly shut, and Harry was forcing himself to breathe normally. After inspecting his face for a moment, Draco decided Harry would be fine and returned to examining Harry's shins.

Shins, calves, knees, everything fascinated Draco, and he took his time running his fingers everywhere, taking care to be gentle at all times, whether he used fingertips, palms, or fingernails.

There was no denying it. Harry felt good under Draco's hands. Still, he wasn't quite ready for the centerpiece, so he started over at the top. This time, he used his tongue.

Harry never pulled at the ropes. The slight slack he'd left was never tested.

By the time Draco finally made his way to Harry's thighs, well over an hour had been spent on gentle exploration, and Draco realized Harry's balls had to be rather blue by now. Draco's certainly were.

He was on his side, relaxing on the bed, his mouth inches from Harry's upper thigh. He put his hand just above Harry's knee and exhaled gently against Harry's skin. "I'm not ready to take these underclothes off yet, Harry, but if it isn't too much to ask, I want to watch you come."

Harry exhaled slowly before he spoke. "I hope you won't be disappointed when I come in three seconds flat, love."

Draco laughed affectionately. "Since I expect to come simply from seeing you come, no, that won't be a problem at all. Here. Let's take these ropes off, all right? I think they've served their purpose. I've just had the most profound proof of your sexual restraint that a shy, frightened virgin could possibly dream of. I appreciate it, Harry." Draco untied Harry's right wrist, then moved down to untie Harry's right ankle as Harry untied his own left wrist. They untied the last knot together, which was a bit awkward. Then Draco sat up against the headboard and pulled Harry in to sit in front of him, nestled between Draco's bent legs and with Harry pressing right onto Draco's eager cock.

Harry wrapped his right hand around his own leaking, throbbing need, and then he turned within the nest of Draco's body and leaned his head sideways on Draco's shoulder. "I know you want to watch, but I really want to kiss you. Can I just warn you when I'm about to come?"

"Stroke yourself first?" Draco requested.

Harry's technique appeared to be slightly different than Draco's. He preferred long, even strokes, where Draco really concentrated on the head and the foreskin. Harry seemed perfectly happy to ignore his balls and arsehole, where Draco put a lot of effort into touching himself in those places. _I've seen enough for now_ , he decided abruptly and placed his lips on Harry's.

Harry's lips were so... soft.

Draco fell into the kiss. He wallowed in it. He liquefied.

Draco opened his mouth, and Harry's tongue slipped just inside. Draco moaned with joy and touched Harry's tongue with his own. He could feel Harry's tongue, he could trace Harry's teeth, he could taste Harry's smile.

The next thing he knew, he'd started tugging on Harry, pulling him to turn over, to lie on top of Draco, to rub his cock against Draco's cock - still trapped inside his fancy, silky shorts.

Harry wasn't wanking himself with his hand anymore. His left hand held him up a bit, and his right was stroking Draco's face. Then Harry pulled away just enough to whisper "I am going to come like a centaur any second, Draco. You still want to watch?"

Draco really did, so he pulled Harry upwards a bit, and Harry rutted frantically into Draco's covered stomach. Draco had a perfect view as ejaculate erupted from the slit at the tip of Harry's beautiful cock.

He'd never seen anything like it. It was amazing. It made Draco want to come so desperately that he rolled Harry over and rubbed against the other man for a short moment, then spilled inside his own underwear.

When he opened his eyes, his Harry was staring at him like a man might look at Van Gogh's _Starry Night_ for the first time. Or like a man lost in a desert might stare at a glass of water he could almost reach.

Draco smiled into Harry's eyes, then, overwhelmed, dropped his face into the curve of Harry's neck.

They lay together like that, in the quiet, for many long minutes.

Draco was about to fall asleep, when Harry stirred and stroked Draco's upper arm.

"What do you want now, love? Shower? Privacy? Sleep? Or possibly to finish up that dinner?"

Draco laughed. Indeed, they'd eaten almost nothing.

"I think, my dear Harry, that a nap is in order. Then we should heat up all those noodles and eat them. But I know one thing for certain."

Harry stroked Draco's cheek with the tips of his fingers and kissed Draco's forehead. "Yes, love?"

Draco pulled back just far enough that he could see all of Harry's face, and therefore Harry should be able to see all of his. He made sure his face was serious, happy, but deeply, desperately sincere. "I know I want you to stay."

finis 


End file.
